Chapter 11
I swallowed, eased my body off the sofa and stood. I tucked my purse under my arm and left the library. Grey clouds hung low over Connaught Hill. Would I arrive home before the rain? It seemed a strange thing to care about. Tears streamed down my cheeks. Patris could do anything he wanted. I couldn’t fight him. Not the son of a Member of Parliament, a man who could destroy me, Zoë, even Jules.
I took one step at a time down the stairs to my car, furious with the world. If I were white, this news that Warner was a Liberal MP would have meant nothing. I tried to imagine what manner of man Patris’ father was. “Like father like son?”
I unlocked the door. The scent of leather and pine lent no comfort.
I slipped behind the wheel, pulled off my wig and stuffed it under the blanket
